
PS 3503 
.118 M5 
1899 
Copy 1 



Within the Hedge 

, by 

Martha Gilbert Dickinson 




CCCONU COPY, 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



Chap Copyright No. 

sheit.xii> y^ 






UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



WITHIN THE HEDGE 



[artha Gilbert Dickinson 



1/ C'V.>/i-'>''>'C-<'Vv>' , 




New York 

Doubleday & McClure Co, 

1899 



COPYRIGHT 1899 S'^ 






DOUBLEDAY & MCCLURE CO 






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^1191 



U.,c^eO»SES ^^C/ilVED. 



I MAYS -1889" ^ 
^^^ of co^i v:^?;:-^ 






To My Brother 
Edward Dickinson 



Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
in 2011 witii funding from 
Tine Library of Congress 



littp://www.arcliive.org/details/witliinliedgeOObian 



^OR permission to reprint a number of verses in this volume the 
author is proud to acknowledge the courtesy of The Atlantic, 
The Century, Scribner's, Harper's Magazine and Bazar, The Nev/ 
England, The Bookman, The Independent, The Dial, The Sunday 
School Times, The Congregationalist, The Boston Transcript, The 
Springfield Republican, and others. 



-■'at iHM >i< iti' iriiir 



'HT' covet a knowledge of new facts ? 
Day and nighty house and garden^ a 
few books^ a few actionSy serve us as 
well as would all trades and all spectacles. 

'E are far from having exhausted the 
significance of the few symbols we use. 
IVe can come to use them yet with a 
terrible simplicity. 

I'T does not need that a poem should be long. 
Every word was once a poem. Every new 
relation is a new word. 

Emerson 



The Contents 



In Absence 3 
Separation 5 
Fidelity 7 
The Christ 8 
The Wrestler i \ 
Revelation 13 
Benedicite 14 
The Far- Away 15 
The Sacred Hills 17 
The Saddest Day 19 
Forgiveness Lane 20 
There is Such Love 21 
Alone 11 
Waiting 23 
Ebb Tide 24 
Sleep is a Sea 25 
The Sea of Silence 27 
At Rest 29 



The Brotherhood of Silence 3 1 

Before the Dawn 33 

At Night 34 

To Cleopatra's Mummy. In the British 

Museum 25 
The Cost of Joy 2^ 
Words 37 
Life 38^ 

Incompletion 39 
To Memory 41 
Reality 42 
Content 4 3 
Love and Pity 44 
Illusion 45 
Unsung 46 
Suspense 47 
Unanswered 48 
Limitation 49 
Memory 51 
Happiness 52 
The Lash ^;^ 
Jealousy 54 
Remembering ^^ 
The Song of a Soul 57 



Do We Forgive? 58 
The Mystery of May ^^ 
In Praise of March 61 
May 62 
Good- By 62 
September 64 
Yellow and Gray 6^ 
A Winter Wind 66 
A Violet 67 
Indian Summer 68 
Summer's Will 70 
Summer's Ascension 72 
In August Clouds 73 
In November 74 
Bittersweet 76 
White Birches 77 
A Spring Bacchanal 79 
The Pines 81 
Noonday 82 
Nooning 83 
Sun to Mountain 86 
A Miracle 87 
The Waterfall 88 
At High Tide 89 



Violets 9 1 

Haunted 93 

Some Hearts 94 

Calvary 95 

Thine Eyes 96 

Before 97 

His Talisman 98 

Love's Exigence 99 

My Lover loi 

Crossways 102 

Her Music 103 

Wrecked 105 

The Words We Do Not Say 106 

The Night My Sweetheart Died 107 

Her Grave 109 

The Spire 1 10 

A Priest's Prayer 1 1 1 

From Carmencita's Rosary 112 

It Doth Not Yet Appear 1 14 

He Came Unto Himself" 115 

A House of Cards 117 

A Question 118 

Beneath the Hills 119 



WITHIN THE HEDGE 



IN ABSENCE 

As one who turns from waves upon the shore 
To dream a distant ocean in the sky. 

Thine absent presence sways my spirit more 
Than all the human voices thronging nigh. 

How visible, yet how removed, are these 
Strong hands I touch, these kisses on my face. 

When sunset smiling wistful through the trees 
Again enslaves me to thy vanished grace ! 

My thoughts outrun the senses slow, to share 
In some unfettered realm our old delight. 

As if a vibrant chord had thrilled the air 
And loosed wide wings a-quivering for flight. 

3 



In Absence 

I breathe thy hidden fragrance, feel thee near, 
Disdainful of each barrier's control, 

Till all my Vv'orld becomes thy symbol dear. 
And parting but a gateway of the soul. 



■■--^smiamm 



SEPARATION 

There be many kinds of parting ; — yes, I 

know, 
Some with fond grieving eyes that overflow, 
Some with brave hands that strengthen as 

they go ; 
Ah yes, I knov/, I know. 

But there be partings harder still to tell. 
That fall in silence like an evil spell. 
Without one wistful message of farewell — 
Ah yes, too hard to tell. 

There is no claiming of one sacred kiss, 
One token for the days v*/hen life shall miss 
A spirit from the world of vanished bliss ; 
Ah no, not even this. 



Separation 

There is no rising ere the birds have sung 
Their skywardsongSjtojourney with the sun — 
Nor folded hands to show that Hfe is done ; 
Ah no, for life is young. 

There are no seas, no mountains rising wide. 
No centuries of absence to divide — 
Just soul space, standing daily side by side ; 
Ah, wiser to have died ! 

Hands still clasp hands, eyes still reflect their 

own ; 
Yet had one over universes flown. 
So far each heart hath from the other grown, 
Alone were less alone. 



..^g^ggggjyigljl 



FIDELITY 

As Love remembereth the old love's form 
Though quickening life hath vanished long 
ago, 
So I have seen a frail birch through the 
storm 
Rock tenderly a frozen nest of snow. 



THE CHRIST 

SUGGESTED BY THE P1CTUP.ES OF TISSOT 

Yet look we for another, — who shall paint 
The Christ of wide creation's growing claim ! 

The hope on earth for sinner and for saint, 
Conceived of shifting ages, — yet the same. 

Shall art prevail till visible endure 

The self-avenging God, the shepherd's 

star — 
The rod and staff that lead through death 

secure, 
The faith of childhood, manhood's drifting 

spar ? 

Stupendous task ! Unto each soul remains. 
Soft halo'd as befits a spirit guest, 



I^he Christ 

The Christ whose hand struck off his captive- 
chains. 
The hidden daysman of each human 
breast : 

The magdalen, the mother, and the nun, 
The fisherman of tossing GaUlee — 

The Puritan, the leper, and the son 
Of modern stress in his complexity. 

One knew him walking on the waves, — -and 
one 
Loved Him the Sabbath morning 'mid the 
corn; 
Another feasting ; some when He had done 
Strange healing, — few, as prophet of the 
thorn. 

Wild hearts have met Him in the wilderness 
And more close by, within the city wall. 

Have touched the garment that perchance 
may bless ; — 
No fleshly image satisfies us all ! 

9 



The Christ 

Though quick with love the painted form 
may be, 
" Such Lord, was never mine," we cry,— 
O then 
Look on the face of friend or foe and see 
God's masterpiece,— the deathless Christ 
in men ! 



-.mummaitttiitt^ 



THE WRESTLER 

The New Year comes — not like the Child of 
glory 

To vanquish sin by helpless innocence ; 
No wise men kneel adoring at his manger, 

No virgin breast his tender Providence, 

A wanderer from out Time's stormy moun- 
tain, 
Untried he comes — -across the eastern hills ; 
New grief, new hate, new victory await him — ■ 
His flying track the old year snowflake 
fills. 

Far spent the night of hoary shepherd's 
dreaming ; 

Arise ! O prostrate worshipers, arise ! 
Mark ye with joy the shining feet approaching' 

O sons of men, lift up courageous eyes ! 



'The Wrestler 



Thy naked thigh, anointed, is it supple ? 

Gird up thy loins ! Art thou Peniel shod ? 
Gauge well the lusty sinews of the stranger — 

A wrestler coming forth to thee from God ! 

Fling thou upon him ! Waste no moment's 
vantage. 
Loose not the straining purpose of thy 
thrust — 
Let not thy fist relax to old temptations, 
Nor faint from consciousness that thou art 
dust! 

Wrestling for peace, for country, love and 
honor — 
Wrestling alone — in combat for thy soul — 
This be thy cheer should dawnlight worst 
or bless thee. 
Another challenge meets thee at the goal. 



REVELATION 

Perhaps instead of that stern Judge conceived 
Of patriarch and seer ; relieved 

Of body-trammels, could we see 
The dreaded face of God, — may it not be 
That craving miracles we should but find 

Ourselves among the wilful blind ? 
That God from hill and cloud had smiled 
Familiar, — wistful, on his stolid child ; 

Resembled strongest in the features 
dear 
Of those beloved and cherished near — 
Veiled or revealed within those eyes 

That speak our cruelty or sacrifice ; 
Till looking up to some one face above. 
We cry. My God ! I see Thee in my love ! 



X3 



BENEDICITE 

The waves in prostrate worship lie, and cease 
To count the pebbles on their rosary ; 
Over the scourged rocks a smile of peace 
Deepens the hushed expectancy. 
Each small, lost flower lifts her fragrant brow, 
Forgotten flocks turn toward the rosy West ; 
Day drops her anchor off the world — and now 
Awaits her shriving — all her ways confessed. 
The patriarchial mountains stand apart. 
Far hills are kneeling ; birds arrest their flight — - 
Then the real Presence crowds all Nature's 
heart. 

And benediction falls with night. 



-JaliMM 



THE FAR-AWAY 

Oh Far- Away, enchanted Far- Away 
Where Fancy's tired wings are furled, 
Where weary longing finds a world, 

Where sails go down with day ; 

What haunting wonders anchor there. 
What colors beat along thy coasts. 
What comradeship of happy ghosts 

Beguile to revels rare ! 

Oh Far- A way, mysterious as fair — 
What songs we sailors never sung. 
What rainbow visions of the young 

Pervade thy dreamy air; 



'The Far-away 

Beyond the serfdom of regret, 

Beyond the despot of Good-bye — 
In whose safe port my Love and I 

Forget we must forget ! 



i6 



THE SACRED HILLS 

The hills our holy Sabbath know, 

Their song a psalm ; 

Behold how calm, 
With strong heads raised their faith to show ! 

Soft folded hands befit them best. 

Souls wrapt in prayer 

Or vision fair, 
Aspiring hope, abiding rest. 

There is no day the ocean keeps, 

It is all change ; 

Behold how strange, 
It sings and dances, mocks and leaps. 

17 



The Sacred Hills 



Keen flashing eyes befit it best, 

Hearts throbbing high 

Nor caring why, 
SparkHng motion and savage zest. 

The vagrant ocean 'tis that thrills 

The heart of me ; 

My soul, may be, 
Belongs unto the sacred hills. 



1% 



THE SADDEST DAY 

There came no uncompanioned day 
While she by grief was newly wed, 
For they were each the other's own ; 
Close clasped, uncomforted. 
Until a laugh did first betray 
Her youthful heart ; then sorrow fled 
Leaving her widowed and alone 
Since even grief was dead. 



19 



FORGIVENESS LANE 

Forgiveness Lane is old as youth — 

You cannot miss your way ; 
'Tis hedged by flowering thorn forsooth^ 

Where white doves fearless stray. 

You must walk, gently with your love — 
Frail blossoms dread your feet, 

And bloomy branches close above 
Make heaven near and sweet. 

Some lovers fear the stile of pride 

And turn away in pain. 
But more have kissed where white doves hide. 

And blessed Forgiveness Lane. 



THERE IS SUCH LOVE 

There is such love, my soul knows well, 

Hot as revenge in a heart of hell. 

Colder than justice's frozen brain — 

Sacred as honor and real as pain ; 

Whose days are deep-toned bells that chime 

Up to the stars of a night sublime : 

That is the love I know shall be. 

Quick with the throb of a shoreless sea. 

There is such love, — by man's own hope — 
Desire measures the nature's scope. 
Since that we want is our true whole, 
A shadow cast by our naked soul. 
There is such love — 'tis passion's rein — 
'Tis heaven to heart, strong wine to brain — 
So kill me hunger, burn me thirst. 
Royal the birth-right you prove me first ! 



ALONE 

Without thine eyes there Is no seeing, 
Beyond thy hearing music dies^ — 
Robbed of thy heart both life and being 
Faint in their swift flight to the skies ! 

Mine eyes, heart, soul, their vision giving, 
Creator, Lover, breath of me ! 
Without Thee death were but this living. 
Far from Thee life what death must be 1 



WAITING 

Hills that miss you, 
Pines that whisper you, 

Days that dawn in vain — 
Brooks that mourn you. 
Paths hard worn for you. 

By foot-fall of lonely rain ; 
Birds that call you. 
Buds that fall for you. 

Stars that seek and wane — 
Hands that need you. 
Hearts that plead for you— 

Pray for your coming again. 



as 



EBB TIDE 

If God should draw life's veiling flood away, 
What sights the human beach could show the 

day ! 
What doubts, what creeping aims, what 

dreams long drowned. 
What hopes, like fallen stars, would there be 

found ; 
What wreckage where the surface calmly sleeps, 
What shallows where we most had looked 

for deeps. 
Strange rocks of cruelty that lie concealed. 
Clad in pale weeds ofvice,mightriserevealed — 
Where monster habits in their slimy pride 
Through falsehood's clinging brine securely 

glide. 
God pity all ; oh, may his own grace hide 
And save our secret souls from such ebb tide ! 



H 



SLEEP IS A SEA 

Sleep is a sea ; we leave the landmarks of the 

day, 
The song of birds, the bells of sheep, and 

drift away. 
Sleep is a sea ; the lights fade out along the 

shore. 
Across hope's bar the floods of memory pour. 
And now the sweet voice of the night is in 

our ears — 
Once out beyond the headland we forget our 

fears, 
For out upon the tide the darkness softer 

grows ; 
We fix our eyes upon a star, but no one knows 



Sleep is a Sea 

The chartless track. Sleep is a sea ; far, far 
the shore — - 

Good night ! We shall come back to yester- 
day no more, 

But following the distant calling of the Deep 

We set our sails and steer down, down to 
drown in sleep. 



s6 



THE SEA OF SILENCE 

The sea of silence hath a rising tide 

And low the dykes of bold mortality ; 
Hov/ cravenly the staunchest walls deride 

Her waves that turn before no boundary ! 
Men traffic careless on her shore 

And revel nightly with the swine — 
Only the wasting sand before 

Betrays the menace of her nearing brine. 

No saving sail relieves her dumb expanse, 
No valiant swimmer tramples down her 
deeps ; 
Build up your ramparts ! Swift their might 
enhance ! 
The sea of silence unobserved creeps ! 
27 



The Sea of Silence 



The strong go down to save the weak, 

Their awe-struck faces float a space- 
Remorseless still her currents seek ; 

Death fears no ebb,-— life holds no vantage 
place. 



28 



"AT REST" 

Upon a hillside where the sea 

Enfolds a rocky Northern isle, 
Her lone grave nestles in the lee 

Of sunset's vague, withdrawing smile. 

The late wild roses bend to frame 
Their sleeping sister's last bequest — 

Only her simple woman's name ; 

The legend on her stone, " At Rest.'* 

The gull's wild welcome to the dawn. 
The wren's near song encircle her ; 

White ships troop noiseless and are gone ; 
Deep falls the shadow of the fir. 

29 



At Rest 

How oft *mid toil and mockery, 

Long leagues from that assurance blest. 

Envy and pity strive with me 

For her transporting fate " At Rest ! " 



3° 



THE BROTHERHOOD OF 
SI LENCE 

Oh Brotherhood of Silence ! Holy Alps ! 
That girded in the patient ages stand 
To give thy rugged ministries to man. 
Or rapt as saints beneath thy white cowls see 
The ways of force take hold on mystery ! 
Partakers of the Spirit, lone, — austere — 
Round whose high altar clings the shriven 

mist— 
What vow hath leagued ye thus against all 

Time ? 
For whose sure coming lift ye up a prayer ? 
What penances have scourged thy sides ? 

For sin 
Escaped ye to the wilderness of air ? 
31 



"The Brotherhood of Silence 



And by what promises are ye sustained, 
Whose frozen hymn invades the Winter stars ? 
Across thy brows the wind's wing lifts the hoar 
All unrebuked ; the harebells trust thy ^QQt. 
Rigid repose, — tranquility supreme ! 
Of thy Creator's fingers the remote 
And shining mark ! Oh Silent Brotherhood 
With Thee be consolation of thy peace ! 
The Alps v/ithin us hail Thee, Alps without ! 
Ye comrades, prophets of eternity ! 



BEFORE THE DAWN 

I wander silent, unconfessed of joy, 

Whose heart-throbs all too loud for safety- 
seem ; 

Lest I should Love's enchanted sleep destroy 
Nor bear my bliss o'er confines of a dream. 

As children gather flowers rare all night — 
But laughing wake themselves in morning 
land, 

To find their fingers empty of delight, 
Or just a sunbeam lying on their hand ! 



33 



AT NIGHT 

The marvel of a thousand nights is out upon 

the sea, 
The chorus of a thousand years is crying up 

to me. 
The longing of a world of souls in ignorance 

of Why, 
Demands an answer to the pain in which we 

live and die ; 
While risingjgroaning, falling,— in its temple 

of the night, 
The mighty dervish, — pagan sea, — performs 

its solemn rite ! 



34 



TO CLEOPATRA'S MUMMY 

IN THE BRITISH MUSEUM 

Beauty deceitful and favor vain ! 

Can it be for this twisted sack of bones 
Legends of passion were writ in pain, 

And lustful monarchs forgot their thrones ? 
Be these the mangled wages of sin ? 

Did the tiger crouch in this shrunken frame? 
Could her silken sails and cohorts win 

No haughtier fate for a storied name ? 
Do dreams recall her those poisoned slaves. 

Whose torment instructed her sultry charms 
To walk seductive the way of graves 

FromAntony'spillow toDeath'sgrimarms ? 
Stolid she turns but a crumbling ear ; 

She who was more than a Pagan's heaven ? 
Egypt as Ichabod moulders here, — 

" Number six thousand eight hundred and 
seven ! 



35 



THE COST OF JOY 

The cost of joy is joy ; for in the sea 
A brook no longer may an idler be ; 
The ocean lifts her ships and bears them on, — 
Our sweet old hillside troubadour is gone. 

The cost of joy is joy ; June brings the rose; 
But clad in tears the violet springtime goes ; 
The rose of passion with her hot red breath, 
Is love's first silent messenger to death. 

The cost of joy is joy ; suns fright the moon ; 
The rainbow hope dissolves in truth's high 

noon ; 
To-day costs yesterday in heart and brain, — 
Immortal life, the sum of earthly gain. 



36 



WORDS 

As sturdy Pilgrims planted restless corn 
To wave concealing o'er their murdered 

braves, 
We hide with careless words our secret 
graves, 
Lest silence bare a hope forlorn. 



37 



LIFE 

To live is only this — 

To feel the tragic passion of the sea, 
To crave some answer from the soul's abyss. 

And from the hills surmise our destiny I 
To live is only this» 



38 



INCOMPLETION 

Withstraining hearts we lean towards Spring- 
A month, a day, a week between 

Us and the shadow of her wing. 
We sense her heart-beat, she is here ! 
Her broidered foot-Drint on the green. 
The glamor of her starting sheen, 
Hope's slow consent to Fear. 
For lo ! Life does not fly to greet 
Her soft approach ; nor melt before 
The healing of her magic sweet. 
Soon summer birds will o'er us sing — 
While we stand yearning as of yore ; 
Ah, man's delight did covet more ! 
Some unguessed happening. 



Incompletion 

'By violet and oriole — 

By lilac, then by lark she plights ; 
Her faith an ever-changing goal. 
Beyond caress, beyond recall, 

Fulfilment's bond she but requites. 
When her white days and fragrant nights 
Are far forgot in golden Fall. 



40 



TO MEMORY 

Regret — with purple passion flowers in her 
hair, 
Holding the deadly night-shade to her lips. 
Smiling the cast-off smile that weary dreamers 
wear — 
To Memory ! — a deathless love pledge 
sips. 



41 



REALITY 

These are my scales to weigh reality— 
A dream, a chord, a longing, love of Thee. 
Real as the violets of April days 
Or those soft-hid in unfrequented ways, 
Real as the noiseless tune to which we tread 
The measure we by life's old song are led ; 
Real as man's wonder what his soul may be — 
A guest for time or for eternity. 
Real as the ocean, seen alas ! no more. 
Whose tide still beats along my heart's in- 
shore. 
These are my scales to weigh reality — 
A chord, a dream, a longing, love of Thee ! 



CONTENT 

I never saw a sea-mew flit wet-breasted o'er the 

main ; 
But home birds skim the daisy fields and 

splash upon the grain. 

I never sailed the Arctic seas where frozen 

perils lie ; 
My icebergs are but thunder heads piled 

in an August sky. 

I never saw the phosphorus gleam where 

midnight vessels pass ; 
My ocean is a meadow green with fire-flies 

in the grass. 



43 



LOVE AND PITY 

Love called and Pity answered, for she fain 
With her white soul would win him peace 

again. 
But when Love heard his own and smote 

her pale disguise, 
She found that she alone did bar his paradise. 



44 



ILLUSION 

A Daffodil — capricious chance — 

Was heavy with the dew. 
When bending low his haughty head. 

Still gazed on skies of blue. 

A Violet felt a golden thrill. 
And thinking him the sun. 

Loved all her heart up ; to fulfill 
A life for love begun. 

Thus rapt, they lived an April day ; 

At night a late frost sped 
And took them both her shining way- 

In Love's illusion wed. 



45 



UNSUNG 

The hills and valleys of the heart 

No voice will ever plumb ; 
Joy outstrips breath on rushing wing ; 

Grief-stricken lips are dumb. 

There is no chart of ecstasy, 

No plummet of despair ; 
Men do not measure as they drown 

Or scale a vision fair. 



46 



SUSPENSE 

The future wears its helmet down ; 

I fight and pray with scanty breath,— 
No smile betrays, no tear nor frown, 

But white at heart I feel 'tis Death ! 



47 



UNANSWERED 

I wanted you when skies Vv^ere red ! 

And now the sky is gray, 
I thought of you when shadows fled, 

Now falls the end of day. 
I called you when the hills were flame ! 

And now the hills are bare ; 
I sought you when the snowflakes came, 

And now the swallows pair. 



LI MITATION 

When listening birds and silent bees 
And hillsides blazing golden flame, 

And Summer winds in Autumn trees 
The waning year proclaim, — 

I long in some illumined way 
To be of Nature's soul a part, 

Uplifted with the yellow day 
Close to her glowing heart. 

Like angel-songs when souls go free, — 
Too faint to reach those left below, 

October glory hungers me, 
Eludes my senses slow. 

49 



Limitation 

Can it be God for whom I strive, 
Perfection's smile for which I strain. 

That face no man may see alive 
In joy or sacred pain ? 

Perhaps far Falls when I am dead— 
I shall grasp all I could not know 

Here with the birds and Autumn red, 
So long, so long ago. 



MEMORY 

The present time is like a nearer sail ; 

Fretted and torn and soiled with stormy 
tears — 
Anchored far out beyond recalling hail 

All sails look white across the sea of years ! 



5^ 



HAPPINESS 

No miracle, but faithful daily bread 
Is happiness ; whereon our hearts are kd 
From our own hand. 

A present goal, some glad, unhoped surprise 
That folded 'neath a dark horizon lies, 
In this near land. 

A passing quiver born of morning light, 
The pain of yesterday subdued to-night — 
A sudden smile. 

Rest after toil, a home on some dear breast, 
So old the joys, so various the quest. 
That life beguile. 



THE LASH 

'Tis not the sunshine or the blessedness of life. 
Nor Love the healer of Despair — 

Nor laurels torn from sullen fields of strife. 
Nor night-fall's certitude of care — ■ 

I most thank God for ; — 'tis the lash ! 
That cuts my face 

To one swift surging consciousness, 
That I all but betrayed a royal place 

And pawned my soul for Fate's caress. 



S3 



JEALOUSY 

They dwelt together, — Love and Fear ; 

Ah, curse so sweetly wed. 
This night you die ! I killed it dear, — 

But Love lay with the dead. 



54 



REMEMBERING 

There fell a night when Winter fires 

Made dear content within, 
When we first touched the mysteries 

Where Self and Love begin. 

There rose a day when trees first guessed 

Their shadows passing fair, 
When I first called you by your name, 

As saints might breathe a prayer. 

There burned a noon, when turning from 

The splendor of the sky, 
I first dared wed your soul with mine-— 

Would God had passed us by ! 

55 



Remembering 

But over all the sunset flares 
That tore the heavens wide, 

When turning up your starry face- 
You kissed my lips and died. 



56 



THE SONG OF A SOUL 

My tenderest thoughts I never spoke, 
My bitterest tears went all unshed ; 

My love of Nature never woke 
A fitting word till I was dead. 

Now joy of winds and azure hill 
Is mine ; swept on Forever's tide 

I soar, I sing, I love you still. 
For this I glory to have died ! 

I am the song I never sang. 

Triumphant doth my spirit ride ! 

Let Spring her every banner hang 
On this, my soul's brave Eastertide. 



57 



DO WE FORGIVE 

Do we forgive or do we but forget 

When many crescent moons have filled anc 

set? 
Do we exonerate the heart of blame 
And reconcile for pity's sake the shame ; 
Do we forgive ? 

Indifferent to sin, 
When wrath burns out does chanty begin ? 
Do we forgive because we know too well 
That easy snare by which the angels fell, 
Because our eyes with newer tears are wet. 
Our faces turned to fairer conquest yet, — • 
Do we forgive ? 

Oh nagging conscience cease ! 
" As much as lieth in you live in peace ! " 
Do we forgive ? 

Nay, most of us forget ! 



e.S 



THE MYSTERY OF MAY 

I knew the trees would leaf and hedge-rows 
bloom this year — 
But failing Him, I hardly dream they will 
return ; 
For they were each unto His forest-heart so 
dear 
That surely they will sigh and listen till 
they learn 
The silent winter-way His life has lately gone; 
And shaken by the strangeness of so drear 
a May — 
Still seeking Him, will follow on ; a lorn 
And baffled company in green array. 



59 



'The Mystery of May 



He never did so late out-sleep the birds 

before ! 
It seems that even now the spring must 

guess- — 
One spirit lost she never can restore ; 

The awful secret of her loneliness. 



60 



IN PRAISE OF MARCH 

March is the bud of June ; brown pastures 

omen herds — 
Willows whisper roses, bare branches beckon 

birds. 
To dally with your fate, to hover ere you light, 
Yet know to-morrow sure as daybreak's tryst 

with night — 
Is rare felicity. Ah rose your bloom delay ! 
Nor bare your golden heart, — perfection 

hails decay. 
To wait for bliss is best, a sea of seas away, 
To meet her is to pass and solitary stray ! 



6i 



MAY 

It snowed a blossom storm last night, 

A hurricane of bloom ; 
Lost in a drift of petals white 

May dies for fruit and June. 



6a 



GOOD-BY 

A paGsing wind, an empty sea, 
The sky grown wide and pale ; 

A sun gone down in memory — 
Eastward an out-bound sail. 



63 



SEPTEMBER 

The wind blew over Pelham hills 

And caught the yellow maple trees ; 
They lifted just as canvas fills 

On ships that greet a breeze. 
Oh golden boats in ether blue, 

Whose sailor birds the rigging run, 
A homesick heart would ship with you 

To voyage beyond the sun. 



64 



YELLOW AND GRAY 

At twilight the sun flashed clear 

In a world of gray ; 
My heart lit a hope for next year 

In a grim to-day. 



6s 



A WINTER WIND 

The wind is a wandering shepherd bold- 
No storm so wild, no path so steep. 

But hurrying off in the darkness cold 
He is herding his snow-flake sheep. 



66 



A VIOLET 

'Tis not a flower to wear, and fade, and show — 
Nor signify as bolder blossoms do. 

Meeting and parting, love or faith, — ah no ! 
'Tis but a tear that rose at thought of you. 



67 



INDIAN SUMMER 

The sun slants warm through empty fields 
Whose crops are harvested serene, 

Where memory her echo yields 

Of Spring's quick pulse and tender green. 

The spurned bough reveals the path 
Her bird has flown ; as unaware 

A gentle sense of aftermath, — 
Renunciation fills the air. 

Only the hawk of silver sails 

Darkens the wingless Autumn sky, 

Whose boding shadow flits and fails 
As human portents rise and die. 



Indian Summer 



Nature is resting ; brooding deep 
Her shortening hours silent run ; 

Craving the peace of her white sleep, 
Surrounded by old duties done. 

With chastened hopes to sober joys full 
grown. 

How oft like her the aged sit apart. 
Within a mellow season of their own ; 

Sweet Indian Summer of the heart I 



69 



SUMMER'S WILL 

These are the clauses of Summer's will — 
To Autumn, a languorous haze to fill 

Valley and mountain with vague regret 

For her whose beauty they cannot forget. 
To Mortals, maples whose colors dare 
Till scarlet Flamingoes seem nesting there ; 

Also a river woven in gold, 

Where willows murmur their stories old ; 
Treasures of golden rod, troops of corn 
And sumach torches out-heralding dawn. 

To Heaven, lest day despair too soon 

The silvery horn of her harvest moon. 
To Wondering Cattle, pastures green 
Rivaling May in their transient sheen ; 

All her black crovv^s to the lonely Pines. 

To Straggling Fences, her madcap vines ; 
70 



Summer s Will 



But to the Ocean only her tears, 
Tempests of parting and desolate fears. 
Sealed in witch hazel, filed in frost, 
To the witnessing winds 'twas all but tossed 
When she smiled a gentian codicil, — 

love to the roadside under the hill ! " 



71 



SUMMER'S ASCENSION 

Queen Summer climbed the lofty hills, she 

would not wait to die — 
But like a Viking lit her ship and burnt 

into the sky! 
The balsams knelt along the shore to see 

Her Highness pass ; 
Her yellow ribbons decked the birch, her 

scarlet robe the grass. 
The mourning wind's autumnal chant hung 

over all the lands. 
In solitary mass the ocean lifted prayerful 

hands. 
She turned upon the highest height to 

gleam a last farewell ; 
The sunset Is her royal grave — the hush 

her passing bell. 



7a 



IN AUGUST CLOUDS 

The barge of Cleopatra seems to swim be- 
fore my eyes — 
Her lifted prow drifts questioning across 
the Summer skies. 
Guided by swaying wraiths bowed billow-wise, 
Waked by pursuivant forms of stealthy 
hordes in Roman guise. 

Listen ! Faint ears may find 
No chorus save the wind 
Upon a piney crag far underneath ; but unto 
m.e 

Above the lapping waves — 
Floats laughter, song of slaves, 
The hail of Caesar to Mark Antony ; 
Lute strings and revelry from some surmised, 

forgotten sea — 
Some azure strand where bides this phantom 

J. 

masque of legendry ! 



73 



IN NOVEMBER 

Where groups of mountain pines lift low 

Their dusky forms like mosques against 
the sky. 
Above v^hose domes the lonely crow 

Keeps Autumn vows in mystic circles high — 
Is hid a road, where one can hear 

The slowing heart-beat of the waiting hills ; 
Whose wintry angelus is near, 

And all the dell's enchanted traffic stills. 

The cautious rabbit can no foe discern, 
Where, mid the thicket tangles deep, 

The restless brook, green-pillowed on a fern, 
Wanders the leisure way of sleep. 

74 



In November 



There, blending foot-fail with the leaves, 
The wind repines for that which is no more ; 

And twilight fond her web of sunbeam weaves, 
To lure the ghost of Summer through the 
hoar. 

Oft have I kept a lover's tryst 

With vague expectance of requital near, 
Till down the purple valley mist 

Lengthen the heavy shadows of the year. 
Now the deep forest hush is brewed — 

Repose unbroken by belated wing, 
Within whose conscious solitude 

Lingers the haunting elegy of Spring. 



75 



BITTERSWEET 

The Autumn tragedy is played, 
A misty curtain pale rung dov/n. 

The debts of Summer's masquerade 
Fall due in pensive gray and brov/n. 

But where the brook still hoarsely sings, 
Like some fantastic posture girl 

The Bittersweet her figure flings — 
While moonbeams in a ballet twirl ! 



WHITE BIRCHES 

Dare not the shadows of a hooded road 

That lures thy step v/ithin a certain wood, 
Where nightfall makes her chosen lone abode 

And Nature's faithful children find her 
good ; 
For 'mid the properness of greenery, 

Where weary days outstretched in slumber 
lie — 
Darkness and dreams in sober wedlock be 

Hushed decorous beneath a Summer sky- 
Flaunt the White Birches, mocking ways of 
sleep ; 

Wakeful and eager for thy pleasuring. 
Their white feet turned to forest revels deep — 

Their white arms waving v/istful- — beck- 



oning ! 



77 



White Birches 



Daughters of joy ! To whose remote embrace 
Young moons prefer their silver gallantries, 

And roaming night winds lay a tender face, — 
Soft indiscretions, shamed by blameless 
trees ! 

However steadfast beat his blood, and be he 

loath or be he fain — 
Who once hath trembled after these, down 

paths of dusk will seek again 

Their youth illumined witcheries ! 
For leafy measures trod in gauze, — elusive 

laughter, elfin sighs, — 
No mortal venturing his troth but will wear 

moonshine in his eyes, 
Fee to his sisters of the moth who flit at eve 

in sylvan guise. 



73 



A SPRING BACCHANAL 

Lay thy fresh lips to mine, white soul of 

Spring ! 
O'er my face all thy blowing love-locks iling. 
Where azure skies in secret earthward lean, 
Till violet memories haunt the green ; 
I come to meet Thee — breathe thy perfumed 

song — 
The glooms of Wintry waiting were too long ! 

But now all sense of time or old regret 

Are lost in Thee ; — forgive if eyes be wet, — 

Waiting is tender work if bliss is sure ; 

Yet how her heartless tyrannies endure. 
When over neighboring hills one hears 
Fulfilment's horn, as breathless rapture nears ! 

7i> 



A Spring Bacchanal 



'What other lover hath a step of flight. 
Or arms enfolding soft as Summer night ! 
Be still each thought,! will but feel awhile — 
Lost in the dearer heaven of a smile ; 
As happy flowers lift them to the sun, 
Or mated birds vv^hen nesting; is begun. 

What other lover sways a court so sweet ! 

Days full of blossoms kneeling at my feet, 
And starry retinues all clad in gold — 
That with the secrets of the dark unfold, 

To guard the dreamless slumber of the air 

Above the heart of Beauty lying bare. 

Soft droops my head where often it hath lain ; 

Such deep consenting doth thy grace obtain, 

No more could night the blood of dawn 

o 

control. 
Than I from thy delight refuse my soul. 
Oh, Youth Eternal — stay thy gleaming wing ! 
Oh, Love Immortal — Thou alone art Spring ! 

80 



THE PINES 

Brothers of dark, whose green glooms fold 
away 
A solemn love of stars from dawn's harsh 
sight — 
Their tall peaks drowse and dream all day, 
Of reaching heaven perchance at night ! 



Si 



NOON-DAY 

Now falleth Noon-day hot upon the fields — 
Her heavy head upon the languid breast 
Of respite sinks desireless, oppressed. 
Beneath her sultry gaze the fir tree yields 
Her dark content ; no lurking shadow shields 
The Queen of Summer in her swoon of rest — 
Reposeful, dreamless, indolence possessed, 
A passive slavery her spirit wields. 
The wayside flowers wide their petals flare — 
Bodeth no ill on breathless sky or sea, 
Sated v/ith silence throbs the liquid air ; 
Teeming with over-ripe maturity 
Swells the gold calyx of the Autumn there. 
Mistress of Nature's lavish luxury. 



82 



NOONING 

The empty clatter of midnight cars — 
A flare of gas jets, the noise of feet, 

And scowling up to the Winter stars 
The open trench of a city street. 

The swinging pick and the bending backs 
Hunger and thirst have at last " laid off," 

While men drop down on the heaving tracks 
To munch like pigs at a common trough. 

'Mid pounding hoofs and pestilent smells 
The surging traffic of sleepless night — 

The song and rattle of gambling hells — 
The trailing yell of a parted fight ; 



Nooning 



Drugged with v/eariness, dogged with toil, 
Littered with torches and spades they lie ; 

Stalwart and sickly sons of the soil, 
A text for the careless passer-by ! 

Stretching cramped limbs, — hear them sigh 
and swear- 
Made in the mould of our God, we think ! 

Too heavy laden for aught to care 
But the nickle's worth of fiery drink ! 

A tattered " extra," — a bluff at fun — 
A meagre pipe ; then a whistle's call, — 

Each to his feet ere the stroke of one 
Till dawn and the Boss shall end it all ! 

But under more than one swarthy hide 
There thrusts a memory sweet and dim, 

Of sunny hay fields and by his side 
A woman who once belonged to him. 



Nooning 

The frugal joy of his shining pail, 

The prick of grass on his elbow bare — 

The stream's cool mouth, — and a tiny wail 
From a haycock cradle scented rare. 

Passing vision ! swift reprieve — 

A mate's rough kick and the spell is by ! 
Then into the trench to hack and heave, 

Cursing his dream of a Summer sky. 



85 



SUN TO MOUNTAIN 

Because thine head is lifted up above 
The foot hills crouching at men's feet, 

Upon thy brow I set my changeless love. 
Sunrise shall wake Thee first, — sunset 
repeat 

My golden blessing from the distant West ; 
Till stars dispute protection of thy rest. 



86 



A M I R A C L E 

Swathed in grave clothes of clinging mist 

For three days dead the mountains lay ; 
Their brows by loving winds unkissed 

Entombed in clouds of endless grey. 
At twilight as a holy priest 

The sun in sacramental rays 
Came forth to bless the mourning East ; 

Beneath v/hose strong and peaceful gaze 
The mighty sleepers straightway woke 

From brotherhood of ghosts and night, 
Through rainbow death dews smiling broke, 

And rose in resurrection light. 



87 



THE WATERFALL 

When birds are hushed and winds be journey 

Vv^orn ; 
Listen ! Across the forest sleep is borne 
The white voice of the waterfall, that flings 
Her song unto the night from moonlit wings 
Whose iridescent feathers mark her flight 
Off her lone nest on some far craggy height ! 



AT HIGH TIDE 

Oh shining slaves that must forever bend ! 

Accursed waves that must forever strain ! 
What power draws thee, drives thee without 
end 

Along a pathway beautiful as vain ? 

Did'st thou betray the Goddess Moon above, 
To be imprisoned thus in green unrest ? 

Compelled to follow in enchanted love 

The magic vengeance of her jealous breast ? 



did'st thou once lift thyselves in praise 

divine, 
To be thus chained to her idolatry- 
Condemned in sight of Heaven still to pine 
In adoration of futility ? 
89 



At High Tide 

Oh shining slaves that must forever bend ! 

Accursed waves that must forever strain ! 
What power drives thee, draws thee without 
end 

Along a pathway beautiful as vain ? 



90 



VIOLETS 

Returning Violets ! How strong thy perfumes 
bring 
The throb of passions past recall I 

The ashes of immortal Spring 
Will smoulder on within thy fragile urn 
Though Love's blue flame in darkness fall — 
Her signal torches cease to burn. 

Thou art the spirit's flower, sole by earth 
possess't, 
Holy enough for Paradise ! 

Sad lovers lay thee on the breast 
Of those by fairer visions kiss't — 
W^ho soft enamored raise their eyes 

To that twelfth gate of amethyst. 
91 



Violets 

Back to the sunny Agora, in fragrant thrall, 
Where Athens lifts her purple brow 
O'er Violet mrls that call 
Thy wistful bloom, thou waftest me ; 
Love's classic garland still art thou — 
The very breath of poesy. 

Thy colors tint the joy of childhood's vagrant 
lanes, 
And hue the hills of old delight ; 

Tranced by the ichor in thy veins, 
Again I see a comrade's face 

Upturned to birds in dizzy flight — • 

And Hfe's long afternoon retrace ! 



92 



HAUNTED 

Sleeping or sleepless, — all the night 

One dream bewitched of odors sweet, 
One dream of lilies clad in light — 

Compels my spirit to their feet ! 
Of tall white lilies, — faint and frail. 

Whose breath beguiles to an abyss 
Of midnight heaven, to inhale 

Once more the moon's delaying kiss. 

I know not if their perfumes deep 

Glad any other garden dim, 
But down a lover's path of sleep 

They ever wake and watch for him ! 
Oh tall white lilies clad in light ! 

Ghosts of remembered paradise. 
Sleeping or sleepless, all the night 

I bear thee on my eyes ! 



93 



SOME HEARTS 

Some hearts are tempted in the glare of life — 

And others by sweet reckless love ; 
Some stake for glory, in their strife 

Casting themselves and God above. 
More, — fainting, — turn like monks and nuns, 

Not to forgetful cloisters grey 
Whose loveless form the sunbeam shuns, — 

But back to Nature's boundless v/ay ; 
Where, breathing deep of silence, — half a 
prayer, — 

Rust sheathes the sword beyond the call 
to arms, 
And hot blood cools in her dim forests fair 

As wind-loved sails, betrayed by coward 
calms. 



94 



CALVARY 

To bear alone beneath the stars of Palestine, 

Was task divine ; 
To bear as dogged Sparta bore, — trium- 
phantly, 

Man's mastery ; 
To bear, — and groaning win a fainting heart 
relief. 

Is common grief ; 
To laugh and bear, lifting unmoved a care- 
less face 
Upon the curious and thwarted populace, 
Frail women dare ! 



95 



THINE EYES 

Thine eyes still draw my soul unto thine own- 
Although our hands have strangers grown 
And lips have never dearer known ; 
Thine eyes all other loves dethrone, 
Thine eyes with passion flowers sown ! 

All that the tyranny of life denies — 
Heart-broken vows, unvoiced replies. 
Visions that swift forbidden rise — 
Live in the nearness of thine eyes ; 
Thine eyes too tender to be wise ! 



To love for some is just content, 

Just human heaven, — nothhig more 

For others just a sacrament, 

A keeping holy vows they swore. 

For me 'tis heaven 'neatli a spell, 
'Tis starving, sating, vision-sore ; 

And alvv^ays in the face of hell, 
Lest life be as it was, — before ! 



97 



HIS TALISMAN 

Unto a child at bedtime 
The comfort of his toy, 

Unto a King in exile, 
A diadem for joy ; 

Unto my heart for courage 
Whate'er my peril be, 

God grant the hidden solace- 
One heart exalteth me ! 



98 



LOVE'S EXIGENCE 

The spell that held my wings against the sky 
Whose upper blue is deep as revelations be, 
Is broken now that she is gone ; 
The rival songs of flight are all too high — 
The jubilee of self is lost to me 
Among the choristers of dawn ! 

How God must love — to love her more than I, 

Who never counted God before — I swear ! 

But men who love and part must pray ; nor 

dare 

They squander one chance hope for some 

reply. 

Would he who fashioned her not intercede 
Togrant her joy from stress or mortal pain, 

99 



Loves Exigence 

When arms of flesh burn hot through 
joint and vein. 
To raise a stronghold for her spirit's need ? 

Ah, if men call me sanctified they lie ! 
The jealous fright of love far off descries 
Fate weaving treacheries with blindfold 
eyes — 

While God's solicitude my vigils buy. 

Almighty Love ! surround, lift up thine own ! 
That sundered hands may meet across lone 
worlds in thine ; 
If love like ours did blaspheme Thee, 
Take thy revenge — for both let me atone. 
Only for her turn water into wine. 
Thou God of Love's necessity ! 



MY LOVER 

The wind swept over a sail clad sea^ 

Tossing the ships aside. 
Worsting the gulls in its flight to me ; 

My arms I opened wide. 

It bent me in its rough desire^ 
Wreathed kisses in my hair ; 

My heart grew clean as whitest fire, 
My soul blown pure as air. 

Wandering lover, your breath in mine, 
Your strength in my failing will — 

Your very self like life's red wine 
My being seems to fill ! 



CROSS-WAYS 

One said, " I love you, — come to me ! 
However short the afterward may be, 
Though justice, envy, scorn of men agree : 
Love that has mocked at death our lives shall 

sway, 
Alone, how worthless an eternal day 1 " 

One prayed, " I love you, — beg you go ! 
Then drag the afterward however slow. 
Well purity and mercy know 
There is a passion of restraint that saves — 
Mighty as that which dies when it enslaves ! " 



HER MUSIC 

(uberselig) 

It trembled off the keys, — a parting kiss 
So sweet, the angel slept upon his sword 
As through the gate of Paradise we swept — 
Partakers of creation's primal bliss ! 
— The air was heavy with the breath 
Of violets and love till death. 
Forgetful of eternal banishment — 
Deep down the dusk of passion-haunted ways 
Lost in the dreamino; alchemies of tone — 
Drenched in the dew no other wings frequent, 
— Our thirsting hearts drank in the breath 
Of violets and love in death. 
103 



Her Music 

There was no v^orld, no flesh, no bound'ry 

line — 
Spirit to spirit, chord and dissonance — 
Beyond the jealousy of space or time 
Her life in one low cry broke over mine. 
— The waking angel drew a shuddering 
breath 
O^ violets and love and death ! 



104 



WRE CKED 

No one dreamed of a wreck that night, 
A hundred miles from sea ; 

The moon hung high her signal light 
Above the lilac tree. 

The tides of youth were hardly turned, 
There was no warning frown 

On Heaven's face, — while undiscerned 
An out-bound heart went down ! 

Oh sweet old-fashioned garden balms — 

A hundred miles from sea, 
How treacherous thy Summer calms ! 

Mirage of memory. 



los 



THE WORDS WE DO NOT 

SAY 

Deeper than chords that search the soul and 

die ;— 
Mocking to ashes color's hot array ; 
Closer than touch, — within our hearts they 

lie— 
The words we do not say ! 



loS 



THE NIGHT MY SWEET- 
HEART DIED 

I seemed alone in unknown worlds 

The night my Sweetheart died, — 
The stars hung in the tree tops dark 

Her out-bound soul to guide ; 
The wind strayed through the orchard calm, 

And laughing down the stream 
Came echoes of a bird song, 

Bewildered in a dream. 
Alone I waited, — unaware, — 

Close by the gate of death, 
While heaven turned her face away 

And Summer held her breath ; 
The drowsy roses, cheek on cheek, 

Forgot the chilling dew, 
107 



'The Night My Sweetheart Died 



The hours at their silent watch 
Were undismayed and true ; 

Till morning's shining horn at last 
Blev/ earth awake again 

And found my heart a homeless waif 
On foreign shores of pain. 



1 08 



HER GRAVE 

Since each spot where we parted upon earth is 

dear, 
And since our bravest, fondest parting met us 

here — 
I bring the changing flowers that her grave be 

dressed 
As fits the chamber last by her possessed. 
Finite can follow infinite but to this stile ; 
Good-night then, Love — a blessed afterwhile ! 



109 



THE SPIRE 

In dumb perfection stands the spire. 

Lone watcher of the night ; 
No frozen vigils ever tire 

This steadfast acolyte. 
Baptised in Dawn's supernal iire — 

It serves the Great White Thronej 
And all the stars in Heaven's choir 

Pray for their saint in stone. 



A PRIEST'S PRAYER 

Over the dim confessional cried 

Father Amatus — cloistered young — 

Dropping his rosary by his side, 
Careless where his crucifix swung. 

" I have been priest since — an endless when ! 

Sat by the living, consoled the dead, 
Fasted and prayed for women and men — 

Fed the poor with my daily bread. 

The wind blows cold — how the snow flakes 
creep ! 

1 will sin one sin ere past recall. 
Lest life should faint in this pallid sleep ; 

Kiss me, Jessica — Once for all ! " 



FROM CARMENCITA'S RO- 
SARY 

Mother, thou holy Mother! bend to me 
For Raphael's bold sake so far away; 

Let him no lips of fresher color see, 
And for no other sweetheart pray ! 

Dear Mother, let the angels round him keep 
Their silent watch — men angels, Mother — 
lest 

He grow enamored in the land of sleep — 
So false a lover's heart at best. 

O, Virgin Mary ! should eyes dark as mine 
Kindle their wicked flames before his sight — 

Loose on his head anathemas divine. 
And curse him with thy sacred might ! 



From Carmencitd s Rosary 



Mother of Sorrows — I have danced to death 
The hot-red roses, crimson on my breast ! 

Few maids there be would raise such weary 
breath, 
To magnify thee ere they rest ! 

But I thy meek and pious child have been, 
And at thy shrine have ever bent my knee ; 

So listen now and grant, O Heaven's Queen ! 
My chaste petition unto thee. 



113 



IT DOTH NOT YET AP- 
PEAR 

Why pine and weep and for his sake rebel, 
Shut out by that last door of silence we 
Would see him ope immortal ! Let it be ! 
Nor fray our youth his future to foretell ; 
He lives while we fight where he valiant fell ! 
Our conflict sentenced by his stern decree, 
He lives to arm us in his majesty — 
While we construe his rigid purpose well. 
But if we later-comers fail — he dies ; 
Finding no heritage beyond his grave — 
Enough of present resurrection lies 
Within our mortal hands his work to save ! 
Rob not the dead ; oh, swift immortalize 
Him in the daily canon of the brave! 



114 



"HE CAME UNTO HIM- 
SELF" 

The wilted husks do mock my hollow sides — 
The harlot's laugh is drowned in drunken 
sleep, 
My doubt if love exists, derides 

The faith that will persistent creep ! 

I came unto myself! Long leagues lay 
steep 
Between me and that brother I de- 
spised, 
Whose acquiescent love of sheep 

Won the sweet flocks I never prized. 
Long leagues to go ! Already I am there ! 
For come unto m.yselfs my Father's breath 



He Came tmto Himself 



Burns on my breast as did he bear 
Me from the rot of shameful death. 
Not by the rioting of shrunken years, 

Not by the deeds of open blame. 
Shall I be judged, — but through glad 
tears 
As in Flope's vision swift I came 
Unto myself ! So weak of will and knees ; 

Spent with excess, — I may not reach his fold, 
Nor hear, save as I hear it now, the seas 
That wash against our distant mountains 
bold. 
Yet I am there ! I see the stricken 
face 
My wandering has blanched ; I will 
arise ! 
And seek the prodigal's embrace 

That in Love's own far country lies ! 



A HOUSE OF CARDS 

With creeping breath, and cheek whose flush 
betrays 
The patient passion of controlled intent, 
Our woman's palace card by card we raise — 
To fall before the careless step of one 
Who overlooks our ministries ; so bent 
On love, — he cannot heed her work un- 
done ! 



117 



A QUESTION 

Should you recall some long-lost sin to-night, 

Would your shamed eyes avoid the light 

So glorifying later years, 

For that sin's sake ? 

Or v/ould you turn your scoffing face away 

And to your world-worn spirit say, 

" Mere youthful folly washed in tears 

What heart need break ? " 

Which condemnation finds the heart to-night, 

Lingers that far off sin in black or white ? 



iiS 



BENEATH THE HILLS 

TO E. D. 

From the unshadowed Autumn afternoon 
The dawn-enraptured dead have turned 
away ; 

Absence alone companions me, as with 
The dwellers of forgetfulness I stray. 

This same forsaken calm my spirit wrapped 
When fixed in death's absorbed intent you 
lay; 
So unresponsive to my love I knew 

Your soul was with your dreams not with 
your clay ! 

119 



Beneath the Hills 



If one should find his need a phraseless prayer, 
Standing alone, — an exile set apart — 

Perhaps that unknown God would compre- 
hend 
Who chose the symbol of a broken heart. 

Strange, that a cross should be love's troth ! 
But no, 

Love is redemption if a love divine 
Lift love above the myrtle and the bay, 

Sharing its immortality with mine. 

Since death first found man out no hour is 
sure ! 

Too easy lies the path unto his door. 
Which trodden once, — betrayed security 

Like some disturbed bird will trust no more. 

From those far mansions of inheritance 
Upon the childhood of to-day shall we, — 

Maturer grown — castback a hallowed thought, 
And pity Love as Love was wont to be ? 



Beneath the Hills 



My mind is but a battle-field whereon 

Insurgent thoughts do war, repressed in vain; 

Fierce clamoring for reason's overthrow, 
Till dreams renew the bivouac of pain ! 

If I be dreaming overlong the dream ! 

I sicken for the waking ! Round my head 
The Spring's renascent wonders glorify 

An unfamiliar world — when life is dead. 

The wistful South wind for a fonder clime 
Searches and shivers; swift estranged the joy 

Of lone communings, solitary ways — ■ 

The pensive vagrancy of youth's employ. 

Yet, — yet love has no end! When halting feet 
Distrust their guide, are there not steady 
wings 
To find the harbor of those phantom sails, 
That seek no more the coast of mortal 
Springs ? 



Beneath the Hills 



How many centuries have eager strode, 

Only to pause at this same narrow gate ; 
Whose moss-grown hinge ne'er turns for 
baffled touch, 
Whose portal wears no light for those who 
wait ? 

God-haunted tenant of the fleshly frame. 
Cry out against the ignorance of dust ! 

Until some wrestling prisoner prevail 

To break these earthly bars of life and lust ! 

The same old burden ages younger hearts, 
The tragic problem wearies childish wills; 

While old beginnings press to unreached ends. 
Beneath the calm endurance of the hills. 

All passed, all gone their restless, vital way, 
Both those who heard and they who spoke 
the while ; 
Those by bereavement torn and those swift 
seized — 
Who joyed not in the milestone but the mile. 



Beneath the Hills 



Those Vv'ho remember are remembered soon ; 

Perished as vaguely as the smoke which 
stands 
For friendly cheer and ruddy hearth to-night- — ■ 

To-morrow black or lit by alien hands ! 

Labor and hunger here lie down to sleep — 
Swept is the dwelling, void of hope or fear ; 

Vanished the tyranny of human aims. 

Darkened the moon of man's reflected 
sphere. 

And yet your proud identity remains, 

Discreet and lowly neighborhood of God ; 

What mother mourns a universal babe ? 
What lover stoops to kiss a common sod ? 

I v/ill not have thee different in death ! 

Be vestured dim in shadow drapery, 
Or rugged comrade of the wholesome light — 

Thou art love's own, — and love will follow 
thee ! 



Beneath the Hills 



How strange that it could stranger seem to 

meet 
Thee now ! That life would reel and 

mystify- 
To see thy mounted figure gallant spurn 
Our upland pastures, — left behind to 
die! 



Though Spring all-henceward of thy waking 
fail, 

Oh hardier brother of the brier-rose, — 
Drawing her russet curtains round thy bed, 

The Fall is pillow for thy sure repose. 

Where I have watched the ferns go down the 
year 
In green, and clamber back in brown, — the 



Leap in the coppice,™ trickle through the 
dell, 
And sink into November's cloister gloom. 



Beneath the Hills 



The sedgey roadsides and the wooded slopes 
Do all preserve their sudden loneliness ; 

Thy season wonders, — unassuaged ; each day 
The golden courage of the sun is less. 

Thy homeless accents cry to me, — deep 
though 

Thy tranquil body lie within the shoal 
Between these hillocks low of bowing grass — 

Thy soul hath resting place within my soul. 

The fact of death is life's fermenting wine ; 

Before the dizzy majesty of chance 
Love quickens all her offices, — -each pulse 

Spurred apprehensive of the final glance. 

Pleasure and youth may wander at their will, 
Fame's cold achievement let each laurel fall, 

The birth cry of eternity nor hastes 

Nor fails ! Death, — death the heritage of 
all! 

12S 



Beneath the Hills 



Oh world take back, thy bribe of certainty ! 

All man has fully known is dead or done ; 
Only the unseen way sufficeth us — 

To know in part infinity begun. 

The will that listeth in the seeking wind 
Eludes the craving tongue of prophecy. 

The spirit's mating and release are hid — 
The sea hath for her creed,— a mystery ! 

Ye champions of reticence ! Who tent 
Among the spangled cohorts of the dew, 

Ye unregretful pioneers of peace — 

No countersign for human hearts have 
you ? 

Now must my lone and living purpose 
pace 
Once more the open shore of stern resolve ; 
Shake off the passive musing of the dead, 
And 'mid the rival stress of men revolve. 
126 



Beneath the Hills 



Down Hope's green path to them " who 
overcome," 

The pledge of deathless compensation lies ; 
I take the chance ! And with the evening star 

Turn soft away to earn my paradise ! 



127 



m 8 laaa 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



015 799 585 6 # 



,WiTHiN THE Hedge 

by 

Martha Gilbert Dickinson 




